Ice Queen
by WickedIsTheWord
Summary: Kurt Hummel had had it with emotions.


He had had it with emotions. Kurt knew he'd never felt anything and decided he never would.

Oh, he had tried, yet it was too strange. These humans seemed to show empathy for each other, emotions, but he'd never felt anything like that.

He'd make a plain and simple comment, stating what he saw as obvious, and then there were these reactions. Smiles, frowns, slaps, hugs. Each of these reactions then corresponded to an emotion.

He could connect the dots, figure out how these humans brains worked, but he couldn't relate. When somebody hugged him, he'd give the natural response. But it never truly meant anything to him.

His actions were manipulations. He'd spent the eight years since his mother's death learning. Trying to figure out all these patterns, yet he could never get them entirely right.

He remembered a time where he reeled, however vague. It was only a short time up to eight. But the loss of personal emotion began to come at six. That's when he'd been taken to the hospital with his Mom.

He had to sit alone there, as his Dad had been out of town. He heard foreign words tossed around, the doctors seeming worried. Hurtful words came towards some unknown figure that'd down something to his Mother.

For two days he lived within the hospital, eating and sleeping, but he wasn't allowed to see his Mom. Only after his Dad cane back to Lima could he go home. But he felt different.

He'd been the one to find his mother and call 911, as he was precocious. It was in the alley street by their house. He had seen so much blood.

For the next two years, Kurt became even more like his mother. She was the one he trusted the most. When she began to 'divorce' herself from reality, Kurt followed suit.

Of course this worried his Dad. His Mom would tell Burt nothing of what had happened the weekend he was gone, and Kurt believed in her enough to do the same.

Kurt began to feel different, not associate himself as part of the race he belonged to. But he still felt, yet it was only dark feelings.

Sadness, hurt, anger came up so often. Happiness or joy were far sparse and few. But as some say, better to feel pain than nothing. Yet the nothingness started at eight.

It'd been the second anniversary of the day his Mom had come back from the hospital. His Dad had began to believe that Kurt and his wife were lost causes, so he did his last resort; called in a counselor.

Kurt remembered his mom crying, begging Burt not to make her go. Not to make her relive that day over and over. But Burt refused, feeling like he was losing his wife, and because of her, his son.

But Kurt highly doubted that. He'd always felt like, like... Like this. He had known that since he was seven and stopped playing with his friends. Since he had cut off the rest of the world from himself.

But he still felt attached to his Mother. He copied her, and sometimes the actions felt real. His opinions of her were the closest things to love he'd ever had and ever would.

And so, an eight year old Kurt had walked into his parent's room, searching for his Mom. But all he found was a strange women that looked like his Mom hanging from the ceiling with a rope around her neck.

Kurt hadn't screamed, hadn't started crying. He had just looked blankly at the female women, observing her. After staring for a few minutes, he heard his father come up behind him and gasp.

He'd placed a hand over his eyes and led him away, yet Kurt honestly didn't dare. He was done with humans and these irrational emotions. He'd lived with them for his mother's sake, but now, he didn't have to.

For those next years leading up to his sophomore year in high school, Kurt avoided humanity in general. He chose things to say he liked, things his mother had liked. Fashion and guys.

Kurt actually wasn't even sure how he felt on the guy's thing. He felt attracted to nothing, yet he wanted to stay close to his mother. One way to remember was to share common interests, as he'd learned from Homo sapiens's brain patterns.

Then in sophomore, glee had started. He'd seen his Dad begin to give him looks, as well as the guidance counselor. He didn't need these strange humans interrogating him pointlessly.

So he'd joined, and then he'd had to make social attachments. It'd been hard, and for the first part of the club, he'd managed to stay relatively alone.

Then the girl, Mercedes, attached to him. He used it as a good experience to test out his acting skills. He'd acted like they were friends, talked, chatted. She believed him fully, no matter how large the lie.

So he had continued the faking. He'd also discovered he was an amazing actor. He fooled everyone, even his Dad. They all thought he actually liked them; one even believed his feigned romantic interest.

He had been so successful. But then she had to ruin it. He'd always noticed that she shared the same light curls and large brown eyes as his mother. But he had managed to ignore it.

Then he'd had to join the Cheerios as another lie, and he'd seen her every day. One day, when he'd put his skills to the test and pretended to be similar to the one others referred to as his father, things had come crashing down.

She had smiled at him and asked him out. Normally he'd reject this form of social behavior among these imbeciles; but he had told himself that he was acting.

Even with the strange quotes and thoughts, he was closer to her than anyone. She had the same problem of associating herself with the reality, even if she did feel.

But that was just like his Mom.

He'd grown close to her and it was so easy to picture her not as Brittany but as Ms. Hummel. As his Mom. He knew it made him even more insane than before, but he didn't care.

For the first time in half his life he was feeling, and for the first time in a decade the emotion was partially blissful, it had been bittersweet. She became his single weakness.

Then she had left, just like his Mom. Just like all those humans would. None of them would ever stay, and he could only trust himself.

Kurt stood, hunched over the kitchen table, eyes as cold as the ice queen he was. He was never going to try and feel again. He had had it with emotions.

Filled for a glee_angst_meme prompt. If it helps, what I made Kurt was a sociopath yay!


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